


Military Options

by kungfunurse



Series: Options [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-09
Updated: 2010-04-09
Packaged: 2017-10-08 20:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kungfunurse/pseuds/kungfunurse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set just after Rising II, John begins to take control as military head of Atlantis.  I really thought that there was some missing plot development, so this is my attempt to explain how they got from A to B.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Military Options

**Author's Note:**

> Umm, I didn't notice before, but I guess I have a habit of making John face himself. Well, with a face like that, who can blame him?

Nothing, _nothing_ in John Sheppard's life had prepared him for this. Space vampires? Sucking a man's life out through his chest? Christ, where the hell had that come from? He'd overheard some of the science guys talking, well, before; before the Gate-thingy and before his entire _life_ had been turned upside down and shaken like a rattle. Heard them debating about what had sent the Ancients running from Atlantis, and personally he'd thought they watched too much Star Trek when they were kids.

Turned out he'd been the one wasting his time.

And then there'd been Sumner, Colonel stick-up-his-ass Sumner who took one look at John's file from Afghanistan and treated him like an enemy spy. Sumner had made it clear that he didn't consider Sheppard to be worth the uniform he was wearing and had blocked him from being included in the strategic planning sessions on the Ice.

Sumner, who was dead, with fifty plus years of life sucked out of his body and Sheppard's bullet in his heart.

Christ on a crutch, he was in trouble. They all were.

*_*_*

Sheppard could hear Bates' heavy tread through the open door, long strides informing an angry, angry man. He thumped his own size thirteens onto the conference room table, idly playing with the hand-held he'd lifted from the lab. Dr Kavanagh truly was a loose canon, a liability to the expedition. His ego and his fear together were a dangerous combination, and already the scientist was politicking, approaching Bates and Ford one minute, whispering doubts in Dr Weir's ear the next. John frowned, accessed the system preferences on the PDA and wiped the hard drive. This device was now military property, and Dr. Kavanagh was just going to have to deal with it.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Sergeant Bates barked, exploding into the room.

Show time.

Sheppard let a lazy smirk tug at his lips, not bothering to look up from the PDA. "Why, Staff Sergeant Bates, here to get Dr. Kavanagh's equipment back for him? Must be true love."

He'd been putting off this confrontation as long as he could, winding Bates tighter and tighter until the XO was close to snapping. The combination of grief, shock, sleep deprivation, and Sheppard's own brand of subtle, nagging torture was calculated to push Bates right to the brink.

He could almost _feel_ Bates' blood pressure skyrocketing. God, he hoped the man didn't have an aneurism right here and now. Beckett was supposed to check all the expedition members for medical problems, right?

"You arrogant prick!" Bates hissed, slamming his hand on the table and looming as close to Sheppard as he could with the table between them.

"Now, now, Staff," Sheppard drawled, "is that any way to speak to your commanding officer?"

"You're not, you- you're nothing!" Bates spluttered in rage. "How _dare_ you tell Dr Weir that you've assumed command of the Atlantis armed forces? You have no right, no authority, no-"

Words apparently failed Bates if the spittle landing on Sheppard's PDA was any indication. Judging that he'd pushed this as far as he could, he looked up for the first time, drilling his stare into Bates.

"Answer the question, Staff," he drawled softly, and had the satisfaction of seeing Bates take an involuntary step back. Good. Sheppard had to keep him wrong-footed just long enough.

"Question, what-"

"I asked, is this how you report to a commanding officer in the field?" Sheppard took a chance and stayed seated, legs still stretched up between them. God knew he wanted to stand, to get in Bates' face and force the man to attention, but it was too soon for physical intimidation. He needed to look for all the world as though he was so far above that game that he could care less about it.

Bates took a deep breath, trying to recover. "I don't report to you, _sir_," he grated. "Lieutenant Ford is in charge now-"

"A lieutenant," Sheppard drawled in amusement, "in charge of a regiment of fifty marines, well, forty-five now, cut off from Stargate Command on the ass end of the universe-"

"A marine, Sheppard! Not Air Force, Marine! In charge of marines whose lives-"

And now Sheppard did surge from his chair, instantly in Bates' face, voice like a whip to the exhausted man's brain. "What did you call me, Staff?" he hissed, pushing Bates, pushing on the years of conscious and subconscious training to make a soldier _obey_ that tone of voice.

"I, I said-"

"What did you call me!" he snarled.

"Sir! Major Sheppard, sir!" Bates flinched, standing half at attention as his body responded before his mind could catch up, and Sheppard moved in for the kill.

"I am in charge of this expedition. Understood? I decide when and how to keep Dr Weir in the loop. I decide what _you_, Staff, need to know, and I decide how to keep us alive on this god-forsaken hell of a mission, do I make myself clear!"

"Sir, Colonel Sumner explicitly stated that you were outside the chain-"

"Sumner is dead, Bates-"

"You'd know, _sir_," Bates spat, backing up a step, and Sheppard knew he was losing him. Fuck, fuck fuck, he didn't do this shit, never wanted this, never wanted anything but the skies and his wings under him and shit it was Afghanistan all over again and he was losing it and losing and-

He found himself nose to nose with Bates, one hand fisted in Bates' tac vest, hissing in his face. "Never, never leave a man in enemy hands, Staff! Never leave a man to be tortured and forced to turn against his country! What the hell kind of marine are you to even question that?"

And Bates blinked again, and Sheppard knew this would be his last chance, the last chink in the marine's armor before he was shut out for good. He let the responsibility, the fear, the desperate clawing rage that he felt for the Wraith, for the whole fucking mess show on his face. For once he let his mask slip and clenched his teeth, thrusters on full burn and damn the safeties. He was going in hot and alive and there was no choice, no fucking choice but to make the shot or die trying.

"I am responsible for these men, I am responsible for the safety of this mission, and you _will_ back my call, or I will have you demoted and incarcerated as a threat and a traitor."

They stood like that for an eternity, two, and then Bates drew a breath.

"Sir," he said in a quiet, shaking voice. "Lieutenant Ford-"

Sheppard immediately rewarded the subtle surrender by releasing Bates' vest and giving him a few more inches of space. "If Ford were capable of taking charge, Staff, he would have been in this room with you and the warrant officer for this conversation."

He stared into Bates' eyes, willing the man to get the picture, willing him to get over his fucking marine-trained ego and the poison that Sumner whispered into his ear, willing him to live up to his reputation and put the welfare of his men before himself. Sheppard _needed_ Bates, needed him to keep the enlisted men in line, needed him to make Sheppard's tactical decisions a reality in the field. Damn it Bates, be that man, do it, do it do it-

Bates stared back at him with exhausted, burnt out anger, and then snapped to attention. "Major Sheppard, sir, what are your orders?"

*_*_*

With Bates nominally behind him, Sheppard now had to stage a very nice, very quiet little coup. Elizabeth Weir. She would have made a fine diplomat, an admirable leader in a controlled, safe environment where the worst things that needed handling were testy scientists and theoretical research.

Unfortunately, she was even more unprepared than he was to be the head of a first contact expedition that was simultaneously an isolated military outpost _and_ the strategically important back door to Earth itself. Legally, technically, Dr Weir was in charge. Fine, Sheppard could work with that. He didn't need to have the title, he just needed her to agree with him on the important issues.

Which included just about everything, at this point.

He needed to find out what her passions were, where her weaknesses lay, what he could expect her to excel at and when he should know to double check her work. To that end he needed intel in the allied camps, and for intel he needed a contact.

Dr Rodney McKay.

The man was insufferably egotistical, worse even than Kavanagh. He was abrasive, oblivious to basic human interactions, and so painfully brilliant that it made Sheppard want to sit him down and pick his brain for the next, oh, decade or so.

McKay, who didn't see the point in lying because if you couldn't handle the truth you were too stupid to be bothered with. McKay, who had surprised Sheppard by pushing himself past what seemed to be his limited physical and emotional limits, who worked what? a dozen levels in that maze-like brain to keep Atlantis from becoming a mass grave the second they stepped through the gate.

McKay, who didn't seem to give a damn whether the mark on Sheppard's file was black or polka-dotted so long as it didn't interfere with what Sheppard could do for him _now_. Sit in the Chair, Major. Turn on this console, Major. Keep me alive, Major. In this morass of political maneuvering and half understood agreements, a man like McKay was like manna from heaven.

A man like that, Sheppard thought wistfully, could even be a friend.

All of which brought him to the hastily designated "science lab", which was nothing more than a bunch of tables crowded into a large room, Earth based computers humming busily to themselves. There had been reports from the initial city sweep of Ancient-type labs further down the way, but Sheppard hadn't had time to clear more than the most basic living and eating areas and wanted to keep an easily defensible perimeter in case of, well, whatever.

So, he sauntered into the large, too hot, overcrowded workplace of scientific wonder and noticed that it had already started to smell of unwashed bodies. He wondered who the offending person was and if he could start imposing penalties for going too many days without a shower. It looked like he would be spending a fair amount of time haranguing these people into saving their collective asses, and he didn't want to have to hold his breath while he did it.

"McKay," he drawled, crossing the room and standing behind the broad, slumped shoulders of the man in question. "Mckay... hey!"

After the third time (and a thump on the arm) McKay's bleary, unfocused face turned to Sheppard. A blink, then another and suddenly he was there, all cylinders firing and laser sharp eyes assessing, judging, analyzing everything about Sheppard from his spiky, non-regulation hair to his lazy smile and scuffed boots.

Sheppard grinned disarmingly. "Hey there, buddy, how's about you and me step out for some fresh air?"

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing, Major," McKay abruptly announced, then turned back to his computer.

"Doing?" Sheppard asked, screwing his face into "innocent" and "guileless".

McKay turned back again with that "too stupid for words" look. "Yes, doing. Are you deliberately going for moronic or is it just your default mode? Because you know, I'm a very busy man-"

"No, no I wasn't. I was going for, look." Sheppard rubbed his face. "Can we start again? I just wanted to see how you were faring, you know, now that the city isn't flooding and we're not all in danger of dying and all," he tried again, aiming for pleasantly rustic.

"Oh please, like I'd believe that for a second," McKay scoffed then turned to a pretty Japanese woman. "You! Find those vector summaries before I get back or I'll feed you to Kavanagh. I swear you'll be doing energy waste recycling for a month! You, no not you, the Czech guy, yes you! Keep Martins and Gall away from my desk. If my scans on fuel consumption and polarity speeds are corrupted I'll have you fetching Weir's coffee before I let you back in the lab, I swear to god!"

"Um, Rodney?" Sheppard asked, wondering what the hell was going on. Behind them the various scientists muttered in their own languages, pissed off but not openly rebellious.

"Do I have to do everything for you?" McKay demanded, snapping his laptop shut and practically pushing Sheppard out the door. "Yes, I'm going to help you take over the science division, no I'm not going to plot sedition in front of my entire staff of half-trained monkeys, and yes, you are going to be giving me your coffee rations from now until the universe sees fit to give us a working ZedPM and we can dial the Gate back to Earth. Can you at least _try_ to use your tiny little mind and keep up?"

"Jesus, McKay, do you mind?" he hissed, frantically hoping the science staff was too busy plotting McKay's demise to eavesdrop.

"Coffee!" McKay said, snapping his fingers irritably in Sheppard's face, "and lunch too. God knows how long the blue jello is going to last, and who the hell goes on an intergalactic one-way trip without taking into account the accelerated use of caffeine by working intellects to stave off life-threatening peril..."

Sheppard glared irritably after McKay who was already moving towards the mess, then trotted after him. This phase might take more planning than he'd initially anticipated.

*_*_*

Sheppard soon found that clueless super-geek or not, he could no more lie to McKay than McKay could be bothered to lie to him. Not that he didn't _try_, mind, just that he needed to have every available ounce of computing power to keep half a step ahead of McKay, which didn't leave anything left over for his usual camouflage. He was much more comfortable letting people underestimate as he did end-runs around them.

But McKay, he demanded everything Sheppard had to give, and he wanted it now. At first Sheppard was annoyed, then alarmed, and by the end of lunch he was hooked, almost drunk on the pleasure of the rapid fire, whispered debate, ideas and half-finished sentences volleyed back and forth between them faster and faster until he found himself gripping the edge of the table, wondering how the hell he could get McKay into a jet fighter, half-hard and sweating with the need to see if he could out-fly him. Christ, what a rush.

They decided that the best way to get the science staff to follow military direction, at least initially, was to subtly remind them of their continued, impending doom at the hands of the Wraith. This served two purposes. First, to keep the expedition safely tucked under the protective military wing of Sheppard's command, at least until they had a firmer footing in this strange, deadly city. Second, to keep the focus directed on ways to defeat their new enemy.

"Scientists, they're like herding cats, Major. Or, no, they're like crows. Great big stupid birds that like to eat road-kill and spend all day chasing after bright shiny stuff. Give them two seconds and they'll be off looking at Ancient hydroponics and god knows what else. Trust me, the only way to keep them on task is with the threat of deadly force. I use it myself every day."

On the off chance that McKay was serious, Sheppard made a mental note to increase patrols in the lab and around McKay's quarters. He didn't need his chief ally strangled in the night because he was too stupid to know when to tone it down. Some of those Armenian scientists were seriously scary.

"Okay, fine. I'll leave the general staff up to your discretion, but Dr Weir-"

"Please, will you stop worrying about Elizabeth? The woman actually isn't completely stupid. I mean, she's not me, of course, but still, she's shown occasional signs of intelligent thought. She knows damn well that she's in over her head. Just make an effort to keep her informed, I mean really, actually informed, and she'll do cartwheels to keep you happy. She's got father issues, you know. I'm guessing she's compensating for a lack of manly approval in her life-"

"Whoa, whoa! Way more info than I really needed. And anyway, if she did have, you know, issues, isn't she more likely to respond negatively to a strong male influence in the mission-"

"Of course she is! Haven't you heard a word I've said? She's got to be the one in charge, so just smile and nod your pointy little head at her and 'oh by the way I need an extra thousand troops on world such and such' and she'll pat you on your butt and send you out to play with all the weapons you want."

"Okay, first off? That is a seriously disturbing image. Secondly, if I actually could whistle up a thousand troops I wouldn't need to _have_ this conversation, and thirdly-"

"Just listen to me. You don't need to overthrow Elizabeth. You don't need to win her over. She's already behind you, and if she wasn't you'd never have stood a chance with Bates!"

"Wait, how the hell-"

"Kavanagh," McKay snorted, the sound echoing in his mostly empty coffee cup. "I heard them 'plotting' yesterday, and today he showed up looking like someone had kicked his dog. He's a miserable, moronic asshole but he's just dangerous enough to have caused you some grief. Oh, and I'll need his PDA back."

"What? No, sorry, that's officially military property now and-"

"Oh shut up. I'll get you a new one with actual working hardware, and software that that blithering moron hasn't corrupted in his copious spare time. Now hand it over."

"You owe me for this, McKay," Sheppard said unhappily, sliding the PDA across the table.

"Yes, yes, whatever. I need to be seen defending my people against the evil overlord of Atlantis, and good God, what the hell? Are you trying to tell the whole world you're gay or do you just not care?"

"That was not my fault, and I am not, well, and anyway I have no idea how the Hello Kitty background got on there," Sheppard hissed, stabbing an indignant finger at the offending graphic. "It wouldn't clear even with a memory wipe and do you think you could _try_ not to give Bates another reason to court-martial me?"

"Huh, I knew Kavanagh was depraved, but this is just sad. Here." McKay casually flipped a second PDA out of a vest pocket at him. Sheppard initialized it, grinning when he saw the graceful curves of an F14 Tomcat in flight. "Hey, how'd you already-"

"Please, I set that up over an hour ago. What took you so long to come by, anyway?"

"Well, we evil overlords need to be unpredictable. Plus it takes a while to get my hair like this without a minion or two around," Sheppard drawled, a real smile on his face for the first time since he stepped through the Gate. McKay helping him coordinate and keep tabs on the science division was basic common sense. Helping him to anticipate Elizabeth was enlightened self-interest. But the screen saver?

He watched as McKay scrambled up from the bench, pushed away from the table and started sweeping together the garbage from his MRE. "Hey, Rodney, we should connect later tonight, you know, just compare notes from the day."

"Huh, oh... uh sure," McKay said, looking a bit confused. "You know I could just call you on the radio, or even send you a text on the PDA-"

"Nah, I'll just stop by and get you. You can drink some more of my coffee, stretch your legs a bit," Sheppard said, pleased to have finally caught McKay off guard.

"Oh, um, sure. Yes. Well, I'd better-" he pointed in the direction of the lab, then frowned in confusion at Sheppard's grin and wandered off, leaving the MRE scraps behind him.

"Bye, Rodney," Sheppard called after him, amusement bubbling over into his voice. One part of his mind was already planning his next meeting with Weir, based on the new intel from McKay. A second was calculating the best way to approach the Athosian woman, Teyla, and see about increasing Atlantis' knowledge of who their neighbors were, Gatewise. A third was quietly running odds on how long it would take for the next breakdown in military command structure to happen, and from which direction it would come.

Without thinking at all, his thumb continued to rub over the screen of the PDA, warming the cold silicone with human touch.

*_*_*

"Alright people, listen up," Sheppard said, rounding up the squads. "We've got a hundred and fifty civilians from Earth, another fifty-plus indigenous peoples, and Dr Weir tells me they're all running out of toilets. Now before they get to go pee in relative privacy, we need to secure a new perimeter. And before _that_ happens I think we can all agree that we need some room of our own to play in. Staff Sergeant Bates, what've we got?"

"Sir," Bates began, giving Sheppard a nod before turning to the men, "we have a large enclosed area about the size of the hangar bay for the gateships-"

"Puddlejumpers," Sheppard corrected.

"... yes. About the size of the jumper bay, sir," Bates continued, and Sheppard could almost hear the man's eyes rolling. "The walls are reinforced titanium alloy mixed with some Ancient metal the eggheads haven't ID'd yet. We can partition it off and use it to store our weapons and ammo. The rest is large enough to use as a shooting range, training center, or whatever else we need it to be. Sir," Bates added, very deliberately.

Sheppard clenched his teeth and forced out a little smirk in Bates' direction. Well he'd wanted Bates to toe the line with him, and now the cranky bastard was making him live with it. Every single second.

"Good. Lieutenant Ford, you're up," he waved in Ford's direction.

"Yes sir!" Ford replied enthusiastically. Which wasn't unusual. Ford did everything with that youthful enthusiasm and Sheppard wondered how the hell the kid withstood combat as well as he did.

"I've created a round-the-clock rotation for patrols in the inhabited areas," Ford continued, pointing at a map on the wall. "Teams of two in ten hour rotating shifts utilizing just under half our available troops. Now if we were to expand into the city here and-"

"Just under half?" Bates snapped. "That's a ridiculous waste of manpower when-"

"At ease, Staff," Sheppard drawled, giving Bates the eye.

"But, sir, he-"

"I said knock it off!" he snapped, holding Bates' glare until the other backed down. "Continue, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir," Ford said uncertainly. "Well sir, if we expand into the city here and here and combine patrols in these areas we might be able to..."

Sheppard tuned Ford out, having heard all of this in the private briefing beforehand. He knew most commanders wouldn't want their enlisted men present while hammering out the actual decisions but he figured this was a unique situation.

Every soldier here had top-level security clearance. All were highly educated with master's degrees or better, able to think independently and encouraged to do so. Plus there were only forty-five of them. _Forty-five_ soldiers to defend an entire fucking city and over four times their number of civilians. Sheppard wanted every soldier under his command to know for a fact that their expertise and knowledge mattered to him, and if they came up with some good ideas along the way he sure as hell wasn't going to turn them down.

If only he could keep Bates from undermining Ford's authority, and his own, with the men....

Ford was finished with his presentation and looking hopefully in Sheppard's direction. Christ, he wanted to pat the kid on the head and give him a treat. Had he ever been that young?

"Good, good, I like it. Okay, folks, here's the plan. Staff Sergeant Bates will divide you into four squads, two reporting to him and two to Lieutenant Ford, here. Ford, you'll take your squads and scout the proposed living quarters and Bates will set up our new armory. In the meantime I will coordinate with Drs. Grodin and Zelenka and see about getting them to help us set up our new training area. Questions, anyone?"

Bates scowled at that, but held his peace, and after a moment someone actually raised their hand.

"Major Sheppard, sir?"

"Stackhouse? What've you got?"

"Um, the scientists, sir? Won't they just get in the way? I mean-"

"Glad you asked!" Sheppard crowed, and decided that next time he was going to plant someone in the audience ahead of time. He needed these men with him, give and take. "You've all heard from your fellow soldiers who were present on Athos or who were with the rescue team, that the Wraith can make you, uh, _see_ things that aren't there. Gentlemen, the Wraith use weapons called stunners because they need to keep us alive in order to feed off of us. That's what the Athosians say, and I believe them. So why did we have so many wounded and dead from these engagements?"

Silence, and hey, he was getting pretty good at working this crowd.

"I'm sorry to say, they were hit with friendly fire."

He stood gravely in front of them and let that sink in. "We killed our own men, gentlemen, firing at the phantoms the Wraith sent into our minds. We did half their work for them, and we can't afford let them fuck with our minds like this. We won't!

"To that end I'm going to have the eggheads upstairs whip us up some sort of holographic projector. We're going to play ghost in the graveyard with training rounds until every one of our soldiers comes out of those sessions alive. Understand?"

"Sir, yes sir!" roared back at him, every soldier in the room standing at attention now.

"Good, I'm glad we're all on the same page. Ford, Bates, the men are yours. Dismissed."

*_*_*

"Major, we have a problem!" McKay's voice snapped over the radio, and Sheppard went from lounging to battle-ready before he could activate his own radio.

"Report," he snapped, watching Dr Weir frown anxiously behind her desk.

"That moron, that total waste of life-support-"

"Yeah, what about Kavanagh?"

"He sent Kusanagi into an unidentified room in sector G10 and-"

"We haven't _cleared_ G10 yet," Sheppard objected, already on his feet and striding towards the door.

"I know! Do you think I might possibly _not_ know that! Anyway, that's not the point. Kusanagi has been gone for over an hour and it's not actually that far away and-"

"Bates, Ford, I need you to send one squad each to G10 to rendezvous with me at the insertion point," Sheppard interrupted, keying his mike to an open channel. And fuck if he was ever going into another meeting with Weir without his P-90. Caches, they needed secure but easily accessible weapons caches along every major thoroughfare...

"Major, I'm leading my team-"

"Negative, Ford. I need you to fall back with your squad to the Tower in case of unanticipated problems. Same goes for you, Bates. Just pack the men a lunch and send them my way."

He ignored the panicked looks the scientists were giving him as he ran past them, and had an almost religious moment when he finally laid hands on his weapon. At least his sidearm, he could get away with always wearing his sidearm and where the hell was-

"McKay, I'm at my quarters. Which way-"

"The transporter is to your left, Major, and how the hell you got through basic with your criminal lack of directional ability-"

"Save it, Rodney. Meet me at the rendezvous point with the rest of them, ASAP."

"Me? But wait, I thought I could, you know, remotely talk you-"

"I want you on my six, Rodney, now!" he snapped, loping to the transporter and thank god the little boxy things came with maps. He stabbed at the closest white dot to the trouble and immediately burst out of the doors into a dark, smelly part of the city.

Up ahead he could see Ford's team already waiting, and around the corner he heard echoes of footsteps. Bates' team was double timing it to get there before they got left behind. And yeah, maybe twenty marines was overkill to rescue one lone scientist, but they were still babes in the woods in this galaxy, and Sheppard wasn't willing to take that chance.

And speaking of taking chances-

"Bates, you are working my last nerve," he bawled, staring into the dark eyes of his Staff Sergeant. "I specifically ordered you-"

"Sir, with respect, I thought it best-"

"We will discuss this later," Sheppard cut him off, and he could almost feel his blood simmering under his skin. The man disobeyed a direct order, in front of the men, questioning Sheppard's command so clearly-

"Major! Why are you all just standing around? I left a very important simulation running and-"

"Save it, McKay," he said, turning away from Bates.

"That just goes to show how little you know about, well, anything. You can't _save_ a particle acceleration graph during the-"

"I meant, shut up, Rodney."

"Oh, I, yes. Right. Shutting up."

"Bates," Sheppard grated out, "take your team and follow Kusanagi's trail, report to me when you get to whatever it is that's detaining her. Sergeant Stackhouse, take the rest of the men-"

"Sir, how will we know-"

And they just fucking didn't have time for this. Sheppard leaned into Bates' space and drawled in a dangerously soft voice, "Staff, you really need to stop interrupting me." He smiled darkly and had the satisfaction of seeing Bates pale.

"Look, if you two are done playing king of the hill here, I have a missing scientist-"

"Shut up, McKay!" Sheppard and Bates snapped together, and Sheppard grabbed Bates shoulder and spun him around. "Look at the floor, _Staff_. This part of the city was flooded. Look at all the sea gook. See those footsteps? Follow them!"

Without waiting for a reply he turned back to Stackhouse. "Sergeant, you're in charge of keeping our retreat clear. You see anything suspicious, and I mean anything, I wanna know about it. Clear?"

"As crystal, sir!" and Stackhouse threw a honest to god grin at him.

"Right, okay, you're with me, Rodney. We'll follow twenty yards behind the advance team unless they find something we need your giant brain for. When that happens, we take point."

"Point? Um, you know I'm not actually trained for field work and-"

"You're in another galaxy, McKay. You're already _in_ the field." He drew his sidearm and held it butt first towards Rodney. "Take it. You're officially on my team now."

He set out after Bates, pleasantly surprised to see McKay holding the weapon like he at least knew which part was the business end. Someone had given him basic gun safety. Good, that would help the learning curve. Weapons caches along main thoroughfares, sidearm glued to his leg, and McKay on his six. The list of things he needed to survive Atlantis just kept getting longer.

*_*_*_*

"Why didn't you tell him to use that life-signs detector?"

"Hmm?" Sheppard responded vaguely, trying to keep an eye on eleven marines and his own feet all at once.

"To find Miko, er, Kusanagi. It would have been just as easy."

Sheppard glanced over at McKay, who was now cradling his tablet computer in one arm, Sheppard's sidearm wedged uselessly between the screen and McKay's stomach. Fortunately the safety was still on. Mental note number eight thousand for the day, cross train field equipment use with science personnel...

"Because, McKay," Sheppard drawled, eyes back front and watching his men advance, "Bates doesn't have the gene. Plus I need my men to stay sharp and rely on their brains, not some Ancient toy that may or may not work reliably."

"And that's another thing," McKay continued as though Sheppard hadn't spoken, "you always say my 'men', like there aren't any women in the military. Aren't you Americans all gung-ho about political correctness and stuff?"

"I say 'men'," Sheppard growled, "because they happen to all be men. No women made the cut for this particular mission. Now I'm sure there are lots and lots of very competent women in the Armed Forces, but maybe none of them wanted to go on a one way trip to _hell_ this time of year."

"Major, we found something," Bates reported by radio, saving Sheppard from whatever reply McKay would have lobbed back.

"Well, what does it look like?"

"The footsteps end at a closed door, no sign of anyone having left the room. I'm guessing that Dr Kusanagi is still in there."

"Rodney, did Kusanagi take a radio with her?"

"Of course not, she just went merrily tripping to her doom with no safety precautions whatsoever. And for that matter, I would never have thought to try and contact her _before_ sending for the grunting baboons and their guns-"

"Fine. Be advised, Staff, that Kusanagi is either unable or unwilling to make radio contact. Proceed with all possible caution. McKay, any suggestions?"

"Yes, just one, don't open the door, you morons! Whatever Kusanagi's run into is almost certainly Ancient in origin and I need a better look at whatever containment that room was designed for-"

"Right, belay that order, Staff, and wait for my approach."

"Major, my men are in position, if there's a threat to the doctor's life-"

"We wait for the science expert to examine the room first. We play this safe and maybe we don't lose anyone else, understood?"

A moment of silence as they advanced, then:

"Sir, the door just opened."

"Like hell it did," Sheppard yelled, breaking into a sprint. "Wait for McKay to clear the room, that's an order, Bates!"

"Sir, I have a visual on the doctor. She's alone in the room, she appears to be crying. I'm going in."

"Bates, god damn you. Bates! Sergeant, report!" The hair on the back of Sheppard's neck stood on end as he heard it, first one Marine started screaming, then another, then all of them.

*_*_*

"What is it? What the fuck is it doing to them?"

"I don't know! It, it could be some sort of Ancient torture room, or, look, I just don't know, okay? I don't read Ancient as well as Elizabeth does and-"

"Major, report!"

"Dr Weir, we've located Kusanagi. Bates' entire squad is immobilized in the same room. They're-"

"Yes, I can hear them. What's causing it?"

"Unknown at this time. I'm standing right outside the door, and I can't see a damn thing that would, look, I'll let you know when we have more. Sheppard out.

"McKay, do something!" he turned and yelled, because yelling was the only way to be heard over the sobbing, screaming, wailing marines inside the room.

"I can't! Not from out here! Whatever Kusanagi did, whatever she activated, she did it from inside the room. I have to get in there to turn it off!"

"Can't you turn off the power to this part of the grid?"

"Oh my god are you stupid? Do you see any lights? No! The power's already off! Whatever she activated must be running off an independent generator."

Sheppard grimaced and scanned the room, trying to keep his cool in the face of battle hardened marines sobbing and rocking in little balls on the floor.

"Shit, Rodney, we need to get in there, now. Kusanagi's got a knife."

"She's not Rambo, Major! I hardly think that she's going to flip out and take down one of your marines no matter what influence she's under."

"No, you idiot, look!" Sheppard hissed and hauled McKay to his side. Inside the room Kusanagi was rocking, sobbing in agony, liquid red pattering from her wrists to the floor.

"Oh god, she's, the knife, she's trying to-"

"Yeah. I know. We need to get in there now!"

"We can't, Major. Whatever is happening to them will happen to us. We can't help them like that!"

"Even assuming my men can withstand whatever torture they're feeling, Kusanagi isn't going to be around much longer to find the answer! Now I'm going in to take away that knife and stop the bleeding, and you are coming with me to turn off the machine. Got it?"

"No, this isn't going to work! Major-"

"Can you see the off switch from here, Rodney?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Then we're going. Now. Are you with me, Rodney? Rodney!"

McKay was inches away, breathing heavily, sharp blue eyes scared and desperate. "Yes, okay yes," he gulped.

"Good."

Unclipping his P-90 and taking his sidearm from Rodney, he let his weapons fall to the floor and stepped inside.

And found that he was wrong. Before. The Wraith, Sumner, being trapped and helpless in another galaxy? That wasn't hell. You didn't have to go anywhere at all to find hell, because he'd been living it all along.

He couldn't look away, couldn't stop staring at the face of the man in front of him. Couldn't hear anything at all, dead silence, just the whispers of all the mistakes, all the hurts he'd caused. John stared into his own face and wanted to scream with horror at the monster staring back at him.

"I'm sorry," he tried to whisper, "I didn't mean to, I..."

The cold, remorseless face stared through him, and John felt in his soul every life he'd taken, every person he'd failed, every lie he'd ever told. He was worthless, despicable. A worm. Maggot eating rotten flesh and god he could feel everything slipping, could feel the scream clawing at his throat, he wanted to die, please just kill me, let me die don't make me look anymore more just want to-

Die. Someone was dying. Bright red pitter-patters of blood and John stared into Sheppard's face, that cold, smirking, awful alien mask and finally screamed.

"Help her!"

The Sheppard-thing just smirked and stared, refused to help. Didn't he understand, didn't he care that Miko was bleeding out? He screamed and screamed until he was hoarse but he couldn't get past, and the Sheppard-monster wasn't moving, wouldn't move, and god _Rodney_, what had he done to Rodney, and that was another black mark, another way his life was worthless and meaningless and he should just give up, lie down and curl up around his pain.

But...

Rodney was in here, somewhere. And he'd followed John in, and that meant John had to find him. And the knife, and all the blood, and he knew, okay he knew that he was a worthless piece of waste, and now the anger was surging hot and clean and his teeth were bared in agony.

"Yes, I get it! I'm a fuck-up! Just like my old man said! I'm worthless! Just let me find her! Let me, please just let me..."

And John sobbed and crawled past the Sheppard-monster, crawled past his boots, weighted down with a lifetime of failure. Crawled and bowed before the horror that was himself because the Sheppard-thing wouldn't do it and that left him, just him to do it, and he reached out and took a sharp, wet thing out of limp hands and clamped down hard. Dropped the pain-thing and clamped down and wailed.

"Rodney!"

*_*_*

"That's a lad, easy does it. You can let go there, Major, we've got her now."

John blinked, pain spiking into his brain, and he refused to let go.

"Major, Major Sheppard, can you hear me?" Weir's voice from far away, and god, Sheppard was still here? He had to get them out of here, get them away from the Sheppard-thing.

"There you go, you did a good job, lad. Why don't you let the professionals take over, now, hmm?"

Beckett? He blinked again, dry lips and sore throat trying to ask, ask something while his hands were pried from Miko's wrists.

"It's all over now. Rodney, he pulled the guts from that machine, he did. Just in time too, if you ask me. Now then, there you go, I have to follow my nurses, make sure Dr Kusanagi gets stitched up right. Are ye okay then, Major? Can ye hear me?"

Carson's brogue got thicker and thicker, a sure sign of the man's worry. John licked his lips and nodded slowly. God, his head felt like an overripe melon about to split open. He squinted his eyes against the light and scanned the room. Medical staff were helping the prostrate soldiers onto carts, checking vitals and talking softly. No one else seemed hurt, no one besides Kusanagi.

"Rodney?" he whispered, and it seemed he'd already spent forever with that name in his mouth.

"He's over there against the wall, Major, just getting his bearings back. I'd suggest you do the same before trying to clean up anyone else's mess, though," Carson suggested softly, then took his arm and helped him to his feet.

"There, tha's better. Can't have the military head of Atlantis sitting on the floor now, can we?" And with a hearty clap on his shoulder Carson left him, reeling with the sudden knowledge that he was the Sheppard-thing, the man with that cold smirking face and-

"Major, can you hear me? I'm looking for an update on your status. Major?"

Eyes trained on Rodney's slumped form, John went to lean against the opposite wall and tapped his radio. "Elizabeth, yes, I'm here," he rasped. "Honestly I have no idea what our status is right now."

"Well, maybe I can shed some light on that for you," she sounded cheerful, like the sort of happy a nurse in a cancer ward would put on. "It seems Dr Kusanagi found a, well, a machine that the Ancients used to help them face themselves, to assist with Ascension."

"Elizabeth, my head is killing me and I have no idea what you just said."

He heard an honest chuckle of relief on the other end, and relaxed a bit himself. "I keep forgetting that there's still so much you don't know about the Stargate project. I'll fill you in later. Can you come to my office when you're recovered?"

John felt an odd tugging on his lips, and knew he was smiling. "You're all right, Elizabeth, you know that?"

"Um, thank you?"

"Yeah, just compared to... nevermind. Look, I've got one more thing to do here," he said, his eyes still locked on Rodney's bowed head. "I'll be by later, okay?"

"Of course, John, take your time. Weir out."

So, he was the Sheppard-thing. He was. He, John Sheppard. Huh. Well, he'd never listened to anyone who'd tried to tell him what he was, starting with his father on up, and maybe now wasn't the time to start listening to some Ancient gizmo, either.

Besides, there was something he needed to do.

Before he could move a hand grabbed his bicep, harsh words grated in his ear. "Major, a word, please."

"Bates," he said, so damn tired of this. "Really, I think this can wait for another time, don't you?"

"Major, the things he said, what he said to me," Bates ground out, eyes still wild. "I just, you were right, Major. I want you to know you were right and you can count on me, sir. I'll never ignore another one of your orders again. Never."

"Right, that's good," John said slowly, then motioned for a hovering, worried looking nurse to come to Bates' side. "I'm glad we've, ah, got that cleared up. Why don't you escort this nice lady to the infirmary and I'll be by at oh, say 1800 for a status report, hm?"

"You can count on me, sir, you can!" Bates insisted, the nurse practically dragging him behind her.

"Good, great! I'm glad to hear it," John smiled, waving goodbye. Christ, they were all going to need to see a shrink after this. Didn't one come along on the expedition? Hightman? Hight-something. Elizabeth would know.

But first... he was alone now, the only living thing in this room save one.

Rodney was still slumped against the far wall, pieces of Ancient machinery in bits around him. John had watched as he'd snarled and chased the nurses off, determined to hold down his little piece of floor. He was white, shaking, his lopsided mouth deeply unhappy and that same wild, panicked look in his eyes.

John walked over and slid down on Rodney's left, shoulder to shoulder, crowding Rodney and trying to warm himself against him all at once. Cold, he'd been so cold. Only now that he was here, sharing Rodney's warmth was it clear that he'd been fucking freezing over there on his side of the room.

"Rodney? Hey, Earth to Rodney, you in there?"

"Shut up, just, just shut up," Rodney stuttered, shuddering harder, as though the act of speaking was taking something away from his struggles. All circuits busy, no energy left for non-essential functions. Catastrophic failure imminent.

"Hey there," John soothed, reaching across with his left hand to hold Rodney's arm, (holding, holding on) kneading the muscle gently. "You did good, Rodney, real good. Honest."

Rodney flinched, then glared at John. "Look, okay? Just look. I just, I'm just dealing with all this," he waved vaguely indicating the room, the Ancient device, everything. "Just give me a minute, okay?"

"Rodney, you don't have anything to be upset about. You did it, okay? You, look, whatever you saw, you didn't let it stop you. You backed me up, you saved us all. Again! You did good-"

"Just, just stop! God, you," and Rodney shook harder, burying his face in his hands. His voice floated up, bouncing off the floor. "Look, I'm just now realizing what I'm, what kind of hell I'm willing to follow you through, okay? I just, god I never..."

Shit, Rodney really was melting down, and John slung his free arm behind him, holding and soothing the back of Rodney's neck. "Shhh, it's okay, buddy. Take your time. You've got time, now, just take it easy."

"Look! Rodney yelled, sniffing and wiping tears. "I just need a minute, okay? Is one minute too much to ask?"

John gripped Rodney's neck harder, hanging on for all he was worth. "No, Rodney, it's not. Take your time, take whatever. It's good, you're good."

They sat there for a while, breathing and warming the cold, barren spaces between them, breaths puffing life into an empty room for the first time in an age.

John found he was absently stroking his thumb across Rodney's neck, gently ruffling the fine hairs at his nape, deeply pleased to note that the tremors still shaking Rodney's body were farther and farther apart. He rested his chin on Rodney's shoulder, his forehead to Rodney's temple. "You better now? You gonna be okay?"

"What if," Rodney whispered, "what if I might, you know, need another minute? Later." He drew back, finally looking John in the eyes, fear, hope, need, loss and everything that he was right there on his face. Like always. Always so fucking honest.

"Rodney," John swallowed, then forced himself to meet that stare, hoping for once in his life to be as brave. "For the right incentive, I'd be willing to give you just about anything."

"Yeah?" Rodney whispered, hope lighting his face like a god damned sun.

"Yeah," John whispered back. "Yeah, I would."

 

-fin


End file.
